


Sister of Brass, Brother of Steel

by Samarkand12



Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Stealth Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:21:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23598295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samarkand12/pseuds/Samarkand12
Summary: Agatha is not the only child the Clays adopted.
Comments: 25
Kudos: 111





	Sister of Brass, Brother of Steel

"You're not coming with me?" Agatha asked, fingers tight around the handle of her carpet bag.

"It is best that we not been seen together." Uncle Barry laid a hand on her shoulder. "I will come after dark to visit. Don't worry. Mr. and Mrs. Clay were like a second set of parents after your father and my own...passed."

"Okay." Agatha worried her bottom lip with your teeth. "You are not abandoning me to perish of exposure on account of my disability, are you?"

"Never." Uncle Barry hugged her tight. "You have no idea how precious you are to me. I would never abandon you."

Agatha held him as long as she could before he gently set her onto the path leading to the Beetleburg road. She stopped for a moment at a bend in the path to stare back at Uncle Barry. She had known him for all her six years: a huge bear of a man with a serious face and sandy hair almost always under a flat cap. On his nose were the spectacles she had used to play with when she had been very young. Agatha backed up the path craning her neck as best she could to keep him in sight. But then a headache clamped over her brain like the vices that Uncle Barry used to hold mechanisms in place on his bench. Her arms pinwheeled when she tripped over a root. Stupid. This was why Uncle Barry was sending her away.

Agatha spent some time smoothing out her new green pinafore. It was strange to wear one instead of the trousers she had run about in. Uncle Barry had told her that girls her age in the large towns wore dresses. It was important she fit in. A lump formed in her throat. She never fit in. She was the weird girl who knew things that none of the _ignorant peasants_ \--ow--understood and had headaches was always the new girl because they never stayed anywhere more than a month. Fingers stroked the golden trilobite locket pinned to the collar of her middie blouse. Uncle Barry had said that her parents would always look after her to keep her safe. Agatha assumed this was metaphorical, unless her parents were actually incorporeal beings of energy existing in a higher dimensional space. 

The path was not too long. She was a bit nervous about being alone in the woods like this. Uncle Barry had always cautioned her against wandering away from the wagon when traveling. He stayed away from the worst of the Wastelands. But you never knew. It was such a relief when she emerged from the sunlight onto a clearing beside a stone-flagged Roman road that dated back to the times when the Romans ruled Transylvania. In the middle of the clearing was a huge cart with a pair of yak-oxen in the traces. It was the sort that scrap-traders used to haul salvage out of the wilds. Sitting on the front seat were a man and woman who made Uncle Barry seem just a bit small. The black-haired man with the sideburns could have played Punch in a Heterodyne Show. The woman had dark brown hair done up in a pretty crown of braid at the back of her head that descended to a ponytail down her back. Sunlight glinted off her horn-rimmed glasses.

A _whoosh_ beside her made her jump several centimeters in the air. Heart pounding, she looked to her right to see the boy who had appeared is if out of nowhere. Although that was silly. She had simply been too fixated on the couple to notice someone walking right beside her. The boy was perhaps three or four years older than her and much taller in spite of his slouch. He had the dark hair of the man on the wagon. Bright blue eyes gazed down at her through the oddly-sparkly lenses of his horn-rimmed glasses. In one hand was the carpet bag that he had taken from her grasp as if by magic.

"Son," the woman said sternly, though there was a smile on her lips. "What did we tell you about showing off?"

The man huffed and shook his head.

"Sorry, ma." The boy's teeth were impossibly white and perfect. "I couldn't help meeting my new sister!"

"You are their son?" Agatha suddenly felt stupid. Of course he was.

"This is our son Karl Clay." The woman loomed over her when she walked over to them both. Her warm smile did not make it seem scary. "I am Lilith Clay. This is Adam Clay. And you must be Agatha Clay, our daughter."

Mr. Clay had come over too. His giant hand ruffled her hair.

Agatha looked from mother to father to son...and smiled shyly.

A family.

_A family._

+++++

Agatha stared in awe as they passed between the legs of the huge clank with the clock in its chest that stood astride the eastern gate of Beetleburg. Uncle Barry had told her all about Mr. Tock and the Clockwork Army of the Tyrant of Beetleburg. It was something else to see them in all their amazing glory. _Why, she wanted to grab a screwdriver from the toolbox under the wagon bench and tear them open and fiddle with all the wonderful gears and cogs and--_ Ow. Agatha rubbed her temple. She should not think so hard. It just got her into trouble. A palm massaged the back of her head. Agatha relaxed into it. Miss Lilith was so nice to her. She played with her new stuffed clank that Mr. Adam had given her. It was like a girl version of Mr. Tock. She was going to call it--uuuuummmm--Princess Stompyboots. Because it had huge cleated boots that could crush all who mocked her.

(Like dirty little laughing ignorant peasant children.)

(So there, you jerks.)

Agatha swiveled her head about in wonder as they entered the town proper. Uncle Barry had always chosen small villages and smaller farmsteads as they had traveled about Hungary and Romania. They had stayed away from the bigger towns. Beetleburg was the biggest town she has ever seen. It must be almost as big as Bucarest or Paris! Half-timbered houses lined the cobblestoned streets that had more people and _things_ thronging them than Agatha had ever seen in her life. There were market stalls and stores and performers and so much. Many of the townspeople waved at her new mother and father. They must be very important people, then. Several children gathered about the wagon when it stopped to let traffic cross at intersections. Agatha edged away from them in instinct, letting Karl chat with them. He seemed to know every young person in town. Which was odd, as he was always stooped over and was almost as clumsy as she was.

(It was nice to have a brother who understood what that was like.)

(She had a brother.)

(How strange.)

They turned onto a wide road with many smithies and workshops in the shopfronts on the ground floors of the houses lining the road. They came to a neat two-story house at a corner that was attached to what appeared to be a stables. Agatha ooooed when Mr. Adam swung wide the doors to reveal that it was a workshop and smithy full of _all sorts of wonderful tools_ Miss Lilith held her hand as Agatha leaned forward forward on the tips of her toes to take in every detail. There was no way they would let a clumsy girl like her in there. Mr. Adam and Karl backed the wagon into one side of the smithy. One of the yak-oxen brayed and made as if to-- Agatha blinked. Suddenly Karl was right there holding the bridle of the yak-ox. He must be very good with animals. The yak-ox stamped its feet but did not move a centimeter. Mr. Adam sighed for some reason before pushing the wagon into place while Karl herded the yak-oxen backwards. Mr. Adam unhitched the animals to lead them away towards what appeared to be an actual stables further up the street.

Agatha Clay glanced up at the letters emblazoned above the workshop: CLAY MECHANICAL.

She was...home?

+++++

"So there is a bottom to your stomach," Miss Lilith said, smiling in spite of the teasing words. She gestured at the tureen. "Would you like some more, Agatha?"

"I think I am full," Agatha said. She blushed. "I hope I wasn't too greedy.'

Mr. Adam snorted and jerked a thumb at Karl. He was already on his fifth bowl.

"We're used to children who need large portions." Miss Lilith jabbed her husband in the ribs. "Along with those of husbands."

Agatha giggled when Mr. Adam rolled his eyes.

"Do you want me to help you with the dishes, Ma?" Karl asked.

"This time, I will deal with them myself," Miss Lilith said. "Agatha, once you settle in, you will take turns helping me about the house."

Yuk. Chores.

"Of course, Miss--" Agatha paused. "Ma? Is it alright for me to call you that."

"I insist." Lil-- _Ma_ kissed her brow. "Adam is Pappa if you like."

"I do." Agatha swiveled her head about. "I promise I won't be any trouble."

Pappa appeared to be choking on something. Ma smacked him on the back.

"We don't ask the impossible," Ma said. "Karl, could you take Agatha up to the room?"

"Sure thing, Ma!"

Karl held out his hand. Shyly, Agatha placed her hand in his. His grip was very strong but almost gentle. It was as if he were scared of accidentally hurting her. Agatha squeezed back to show that she was alright. That got another of those brilliant smiles out of him. He led her out of the kitchen at the back of the house into the parlor in the front of the ground floor. Agatha took a moment to study how lived-in the parlor looked. The houses that Uncle Barry had rented all came with whatever battered furniture they were furnished with. The nicely-upholstered couches and chairs were all so much richer than she had ever seen. In one corner was a piano that Ma said was where she taught the townie girls. She had even offered to teach Agatha how to play. As if she could do anything more than stumble over the keys. On the mantle over the fireplace were several tintypes and daguerrotypes of the Clays. Perhaps...perhaps someday there might be a picture of her there some day? In a frame hung just above the mantel was a blue cloth with what appeared to be a house sigil on it. 

Agatha examined it for a bit, squinting.

(She didn't want to tell anyone her vision was blurring a bit.)

(She was broken enough with everyone knowing about the headaches.)

Huh.

Together, she and Karl climbed the stairs leading to the second storey of the Clay home. At the top was a landing. To the right was a locked door. To the left up three steps was a narrow room tucked under the sloping roof. A pair of windows let in sunlight from the street. One side of the room was a big desk with all sorts of papers and neat things, with shelves over it full of books. Agatha squealed in silent delight when she caught sight of the titles. These were _grown up_ books whose subjects were at least college-level. In one corner of the desk was a fancy typewriter--she didn't think any of those existed outside of offices--with a sheet of paper half-typed in it. On a corkboard just beside the desk were lots of clippings from _journaux_ and newspapers in many languages. There was a large wardrobe and dresser tucked into the short wall facing the windows. 

__Karl sighed. Agatha blinked in astonishment when he seemed to...stretch out. The stoop was gone. Her new brother was so very tall. He set his glasses onto the desk. Oh. The index of refraction in the lenses suddenly became clear to her. Why in the world would he need to wear glasses with lead crystal lenses? He guided her to a bed that was set into an alcove between the front wall and the doorjamb. It was rather like the berth on an airship that she had seen pictures of. Someone had built a second bed on a platform above the original mattress. A ladder lead up into it._ _

__Grinning, Agatha scrambled up it. So neat! Even if the pitch of the roof gave made it more cramped._ _

__"So you want the top bunk?" Karl asked. "I was going to take it."_ _

__"No, I like being high up," Agatha said._ _

__"Oh, yeah, it's amazing," Karl said. "Nothing like it.'_ _

__"So. Um." Agatha pointed at the desk. "Are you a writer? Like the people who write the Heterodyne Boys books?"_ _

__"Ma and Pa won't have them in the house." Karl shook his head. "No, I'm practising to be a reporter."_ _

__"What is that?" Agatha asked._ _

__"It's the people who write articles for the newspaper," Karl said. "I want to be one."_ _

__"I thought all boys wanted to be heroes," Agatha said._ _

__"Heroes save you once," Karl said. "But a reporter reveals the problems so that heroes don't have to keep saving people."_ _

__"What an unusual point of view." Agatha peered at his throat. There was a tiny clasp there bearing the sigil on the cloth downstairs: a golden shield on red with a strangely-shaped S filling it. "Is that the symbol of a Great House?"_ _

__"No. it's my family's crest," Karl said. "They are...long-gone. And from a land far, far away. According to Ma and Pappa, a message from my parents when they found me says that this is a symbol for hope."_ _

__"My own parents are somewhere. Uncle Barry is all the family I had." Agatha smiled. "Until I met you and Ma and Pappa."_ _

__"It's great to have a sister," Karl said._ _

__"Are you sure you don't mind me taking your room?" Agatha asked._ _

__"No. I used to call this my fortress of solitude." Karl laughed. "But it gets lonely sometimes."_ _

__Suddenly, he stared at her locket._ _

__"Agatha, where did you get that?"_ _

__"Oh, it's from my uncle Barry." Agatha touched it. "It has the only pictures of my parents. Uncle Barry said I should always wear it."_ _

__"Could I--" Karl cocked his head. "Ah, I forgot. I had to see someone in town."_ _

__"Oh, of--"_ _

__WHOOOSH!_ _

__"--course?"_ _

__+++++_ _

__Agatha shivered._ _

__Green eyes blurry, she saw that the windows were open._ _

__She looked down over the edge of her bunk._ _

__Karl was sleeping there. He must have come in after she went to bed early._ _

__The sigil at his throat gleamed in the moonlight._ _

__Agatha smiled._ _

__Hope._ _

__She liked that._ _

__Climbing down to close the windows, she kissed her new brother on the cheek._ _

__She nestled against him as he so very carefully embraced her._ _

__It felt safe._ _

__Sighing, she went to sleep._ _


End file.
